That force pushing within

The laws of this world are inevitable. We are bound by each one, tied hopelessly to the ground. But that can't stop us from living, we find power, knowledge and love. You know that moment, that split second when you fall in love? The moment when you just know. I think about sometimes, trying to pinpoint that exact moment when I fell, often the memory comes, others it is lost to the wind but I still feel it, you know. The love I felt before. Something like that never leaves your soul. So yes, we're bound by the elements and moved by those forces from inside of us. They show us the way.

Heartless

A little cracking here and there.
Where did this come from?
It tears at my soul,
Pulls at my heartstrings.
I have no idea how to come out of this.
Without my heart?

Oh boy

I am quite in danger here. I don't quite know what to do. Taking all things in stride is the best advice I can give to anyone. Anyone including myself. The world goes round on this beautiful night full of life. I feel as though I could stay up all night long.

"From what we cannot hold the stars are made."
-W.S. Merwin

My life seems past, and yet is somehow new; I know you not, a stranger, but I live in you.
Helen, Goethe's Faust

The Wicked Woman

Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita pg. 206
“…Once upon a time there was a lady. She had no children, and no happiness either. And at first she cried for a long time, but then she became wicked…” Margarita fell silent, and took her hand away—the boy was sleeping.”

Our plans never turn out like we suppose them to. Ah but that is life, endless possibilities. We must be willing to let go of everything, in that moment can we gain anything.

And I'm still standing as the wind blows around me.

What a beautiful day. Taken by the wind was never so true, it sweeps my hair away from my face and pulls at the corners of my heart. I love the wind. But here I talk about something more. A different bit of wind. The wind of life that threatens to uproot us from the ground of faith. Somedays it just blows and blows, seemingly to never cease. But there is hope, Christ atoned for these kind of days. He through his redeeming love and strength was "bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him." I find my strength through my great redeemer and Savior who suffered all things. And I live.

And then we lived.

There is a basin in the mind
where words float around on thought
and thought on sound and sight.
Then there is a depth of thought
untouched by words,
and deeper still,
a gulf of formless feelings
untouched by thought

-Their Eyes Were Watching God

We're all adults here...?

That is it. I turned twenty. I've decided that I am an adult. Officially. So then. What do adults do? They care about people. Or that is the type of adult I am aspiring to be. They aren't super sarcastic. They are professional. They wake up at a decent hour...8am? They make their beds. And put away their clothes. They eat healthy. They call people on the phone. They go to the temple. They listen. They aren't selfish. They are on time. They pay with cash. Have wallets for that cash. And purses for those wallets. When a book is started, it is finished. So there we have it. A set of goals.

People

As my Sigmund Freud said, "Be interested in people, care about what they say and think. People are interesting." It was one of those self actualization experiences that Carl Rogers taught. If I can learn to simply let go of myself, and look onto others. Seeing what they love, their interest and goals, and recognize where they are coming from, I will really begin to love them and show that love. Not just say I love them, but actually reflect that love in my actions.

I'll eat you up, I love you so.

Takes my breath away
You see those stars?
That moon?
I'm right there
Swings and Trees
The world
The sky
And everything in between.
Share it with me.

We ate the birds. We ate them. We wanted their songs to flow up through our throats and burst out of our mouths, and so we ate them. We wanted their feathers to bud from our flesh. We wanted their wings, we wanted to fly as they did, soar freely among the treetops and the clouds, and so we ate them. We speared them, we clubbed them, we tangled their feet in glue, we netted them, we spitted them, we threw them onto hot coals, and all for love, because we loved them. We wanted to be one with them. We wanted to hatch out of clean, smooth, beautiful eggs, as they did, back when we were young and agile and innocent of cause and effect, we did not want the mess of being born, and so we crammed the birds into our gullets, feathers and all, but it was no use, we couldn’t sing, not effortlessly as they do, we can’t fly, not without smoke and metal, and as for the eggs we don’t stand a chance. We’re mired in gravity, we’re earthbound. We’re ankle-deep in blood, and all because we ate the birds, we ate them a long time ago, when we still had the power to say no.

eating the birds, margaret atwood

If people were rain.

Pain is injury leaving your body. Imagine that, it is nothing but proof that you are moving on, healing, letting go of something that held onto you for a time. So there it is, lets all chose today and let it go. When you speak, let poetry spring from your lips. Injury and pain will come and go but that is exactly how it aught to be. We need to know the injury and pain to know what its like to be healed and whole.